By another equally extraordinary coincidence, Nansen met his English friend and patron, Sir George Baden Powell, in Hammerfest, on his yacht the Ontario, which he placed at Nansen’s disposal, an offer which was gratefully accepted. Sir Baden Powell had been very anxious about Nansen, and was, in fact, on the point of setting out on an expedition to search for him, when he thus met him.
That same evening Nansen’s wife and his secretary, Christophersen, arrived in Hammerfest, and the whole place was en fête to celebrate the event. Telegrams kept pouring in from all quarters of the globe, and invitations from every town on the coast of Norway to visit them en route.
But the Fram? The only dark spot amid all their joy was that no tidings had been heard of her; and in the homes of those brave fellows left behind there was sadness and anxiety. Even Nansen himself, who had felt so sure that all was well with her, began to feel anxious.
One morning, it was Aug. 20, Nansen was awakened by Sir Baden Powell knocking at his door with the announcement that there was a man outside who wanted to speak to him.
Nansen replied that he was not dressed, but would come presently.
“Come just as you are,” answered Sir Baden.
Who could it be?
Hurriedly putting on his clothes, Nansen went down into the saloon. A man was standing there, a telegram in his hand; it was the director of the telegraph office.
He had a telegram, he said, which he thought would interest him, and had brought it himself.
Interest him! There was only one thing in the world that could interest Nansen now, and that was the Fram’s fate.